


Remembrance Day

by amuk



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Moving On, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: “You will live,” Haggar stated. And Allura did, even as the universe was restarted and saved, even as she woke up in her actual timeline with her friends around her. She was alive.And so, it seemed as black magic crackled under her fingertips, was Haggar’s magic.
Relationships: Alfor & Allura (Voltron), Allura & Coran (Voltron), Allura & Haggar (Voltron), Allura & Hunk (Voltron), Allura & Keith (Voltron), Allura & Lotor (Voltron), Allura & Pidge | Katie Holt, Allura & Romelle (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20
Collections: Allura Lives Zine





	Remembrance Day

**Author's Note:**

> For the Allura Lives Zine! While I am in the minority that enjoyed most of the final season, there were a few things I wanted to tweak here and there. I took full advantage of this piece to do so.

“Not you,” Haggar stated simply, raising her hand. In the nexus void between one universe and another, the witch looked transparent, paper thin. Her robes shimmered in and out of existence, and for a moment she was both Honerva and Haggar, her past and present colliding.

“What do you mean, not me?” Allura stared at her, confused. Darkness was slowly closing on them, swallowing the faint lights of each universe as they spoke. Glancing up, she gritted her teeth. “We don’t have time for this! Everyone is going to die!”

“No, not everyone.” Haggar’s eyes glowed gold as she closed her fist. Black sparks popped out of her hand. “The dead will help. I will atone. You will live.”

“What?” Allura glanced at her, then at her father. He was too far away to hear, still walking toward the white hot center of the parallel universes. Taking a step forward, she tried to push her way past Haggar. “This isn’t the time for—”

“You will live,” Haggar repeated, snapping her fingers. Her voice was a siren’s call, both Altean and not. “This was never your price to pay.”

A sharp pain ran up Allura’s spine. Black magic poured out of her like a dam bursting open. She screamed, unable to clutch her head, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch as jagged spikes of lightning escaped her and shot into Haggar.

_You will live_. Allura woke up with the words on her lips, her feet still ready to take that final step.

But it was no longer needed. Her universe was saved. All the universes were saved. Allura sat up, blinking away the sleepiness in her eyes. There was no point in lingering on this recurring dream—she had things to do and none of them involved the dead or the past.

-x-

“So, it’s gone?” Allura asked, slipping off the body scanner. Her feet landed on the floor gently as she stood up straight. If there was one thing that remained the same across planets, cultures, and timelines, it was the sterile white colour of the medical bay.

“Looks like it.” Pidge squinted at the holographic screen and the text that appeared to be floating. Her fingers tapped a button or two, a soft click as she checked the different reports. “There isn’t a trace of Haggar’s magic in you anymore.”

“And this machine of yours…” Allura trailed off, glancing at the scanner.

“Completely accurate,” Pidge answered confidentially. She gestured at the screen proudly. “The best of the best doctors helped build this.”

“Maybe you’re not reading it right?” Hunk peered over Pidge’s shoulder, skimming the reports. His hands twisted together as he read. “You’re not a doctor. Maybe we should get a doctor?”

His hands reached up to press a button. With a sharp smack, Pidge swatted away the offending appendage. She scowled up at him. “Hey, you aren’t a doctor either.”

Hunk rubbed his stinging hand. “Yeah, but two heads are better than one.”

“Both of our heads won’t really change anything.” Rolling her eyes, Pidge turned to Allura. She scratched the back her neck sheepishly. “But he has a point—maybe you should get a doctor to check this? Or someone who knows anything about magic?”

“The real kind, not the ‘pick a card’ or ‘cut you in half’ kind,” Hunk added helpfully, a worried smile on his lips. “It’s dark magic. Who knows what it does.”

“Thank you but…” Allura gripped her wrist, looking at the ground. “I don’t think there are any ‘witches’ anymore.”

“Oh…right…” Hunk’s shoulders sank and he bit his lip. “Maybe…there’s a doctor in Romelle’s group, right?”

Allura clenched her fingers. She could still feel power at the tips of her fingers, black sparks ready to fly out at a moment’s notice. It was a like a phantom limb, though she wasn’t sure how much was phantom and how much was real. Nodding, she agreed. “I’ll get him to take a look.”

-x-

A slightly different dream, a different perspective, a different version of reality. Allura floated in the dark abyss, at the border between the void and the universe’s center. The paladins of old were just silhouettes in the distance, waiting for her father to join them.

Her father who stood in front of her now, stopping her from taking a step forward. His hand tenderly pushed her bangs out of her face. “Allura, you’ll stay here.”

“This isn’t what happened,” she muttered, already reaching up to touch him. Her hand cupped his jaw, felt the rough texture of his stubble. Her mother had complained about it once, saying how it scratched her face whenever she kissed him. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“In a sense.” His eyes crinkled fondly as he took her in. “Have you grown taller?”

“Not at all.” She stared at her hands, remembering the phantom sparks. Taking a step back, she glanced around for Haggar. “Do I still have her magic?”

“Yes and no.” Her father glanced behind, at the silhouettes of the paladins. Now that she looked closer, she could see the witch’s figure with them as well. “She took it back—it’s not in you anymore.”

“Then how?” Allura asked. Whatever powers the white lion gave her, they were not for this.

“You haven’t let go of them on your end,” her father answered cryptically. Before she could press any further, the universe warped around them. Now they were floating in space, Altea just in front of them. A jewel in the darkness, it glimmered blue and green. “I never thought I’d see it again.”

“Neither did I,” she admitted, turning to face it. “It looks exactly like I remembered.”

“But different, right?” Her father turned her.

Of course, he’d catch on. Even Coran hadn’t noticed. Chuckling, she nodded. “It is. A tree I had carved my name on. A rock I had stolen from the river and placed in our garden. The crater from when one of the paladins went too far while sparring. All of it, gone.”

“I don’t think you want to keep that crater,” her father said wryly, running a hand through his hair. “But you can make new memories, steal more rocks, even make another crater if you want.”

“I could.” Her eyes watered as she reached to grasp his hand. He felt so real. “But you wouldn’t be in any of them.”

“I’m afraid not.” Her father cupped her face, his warm fingers holding her firm as he bent down and kissed the top of her head. “But I’ll always be in your memories, in your stories. As long as they live, so do I.”

She reached up, covering his hands with her own. Closing her eyes, she inhaled his scent, listened to the sound of his breathing, tried to memorize every detail. This would be the last time, part of her knew. The very last.

When she woke up, her throat burned.

-x-

“Allura!” Romelle dropped the spade the second she spotted her. Like a flash of lightning, she got up and darted in front of her. “What did the doctor say?”

Allura stared at the girl in front of her, resisting the urge to rub her eyes. She wasn’t sure if the spade had time to hit the garden bed before Romelle broke the sound barrier. “I’m…fine.”

“You sure?” Romelle took a step back, scanning Allura. Her hand rubbed her chin thoughtfully as she checked head to toe. “You look okay.”

“I am fine,” Allura repeated. Sidestepping, she glanced at the garden. Small patches of dark mud stood out on the light brown dirt and a small mound sat where Romelle had been moments ago. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, that.” Romelle laughed, scratching her cheek with a finger. It left a muddy streak and now that Allura was paying attention, her friend was covered in it. Patches of brown and green stained her pants and her arms were scratched from where her short-sleeved shirt didn’t protect her. “I was gardening.”

“I could guess that,” Allura sighed, already picturing the muddy footsteps in the Castle of Lions.

“Pidge’s mom sent some seeds—said this plant grew on Altea before.” Romelle pulled out a small packet from her pockets. “Thought you’d like to see it.”

Juniberry flowers. Allura stared at the packet, remembering Colleen’s smile as she cultivated flower after flower. A flower that was never native to her planet, a flower that hadn’t been native to the universe in centuries.

_Make it your own_ , her father had said. This might not have been _her_ planet, but she could make it that way. Pulling her hair back into a messy braid, Allura rolled up her sleeves. “Here, let me help you.”

-x-

“Lotor.” She stared at her once lover, at her once foe. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d visit, not after the ghosts she’d already met, but it shocked her nonetheless. “You’re here.”

“Yes.” He stood on her balcony and unlike the other ghosts, this felt more personal, more private. Her dream was in the Castle of Lions, in her actual room, and not at that border nexus between the universes. Lotor took a deep breath. “So this is what Altea was like.”

“ _Is_ like,” she corrected, watching as he studied the gardens. Slipping out of bed, she reluctantly joined him on the balcony. In the moonlight, the juniberry flowers glowed a soft blue. “You never saw it?”

“No, my father never let me. Called it a weakness,” he admitted, leaning on the rails. There was child-like wonder on his face and for a moment, Allura saw the boy from the other universe, the child that had been loved by his father. “It’s beautiful.”

“Very much so,” she agreed, the only thing she would ever agree with him on. Her hands clenched on the railing as she stared determinedly ahead. “And those flowers are planted by the very people you were killing.”

He didn’t say anything. Crossing his arms on the railing, he rested his head on his wrists. A bird chirped nearby. Allura couldn’t say if it was native or if it was a new species brought back from Romelle’s homeworld. A soft breeze and the sweet scent of the juniberries wafted up. “It smells nice too,” Lotor muttered.

At this, she snapped. Turning to him, she growled, “Is that all you have to say?”

“No.” Lotor glanced at her. “Would you have me apologize? Say what I did was wrong?”

“Yes,” Allura spat out with clenched teeth. “That and more.”

“It was wrong,” he admitted, standing straight now. He raised a hand and a bird flew to it, delicately turning its head as it chirped. “But I won’t apologize.”

“Why?” The railing dug into her skin as she stared at him, incredulous. “You were killing people.”

“And I saved people too.” Lotor turned to her now, and she could almost see what he could have become, what he could have been. The good and the bad. “You know how easy it is, for intentions to corrupt. For people to twist. For good to turn bad.”

His mother. His father. Himself. Allura wondered just how many people were hurt because of his family, because of a scientist who pushed too far, a leader who desired power to protect, a lost child that wanted to find his place.

A story that could have been told in a different way. That had been told in a different way, once, in a universe that no longer existed.

Black magic jumped out of her skin and Lotor half-smiled. “You almost experienced it yourself, didn’t you?”

She woke up, a denial on her lips.

-x-

The laughter of children filled Allura’s ears as she sat down on the steps to the castle. In a field in front of her, Altean children played a game she half-remembered from her childhood. Romelle had made up the missing pieces, creating a new fusion game.

A wolf teleported onto the field, disrupting the game, and Allura didn’t have to turn to know just who was approaching her.

“Allura!” Keith plopped down on the granite steps next to her, his lanky legs sprawled in front of him. A half smirk graced his face as he turned to her, a playful lit to his voice as he teased, “You have time to rest?”

Tearing her eyes away from the game, she raised a brow and dryly retorted, “I could ask you the same question. I haven’t seen you in months.”

“Yeah…” Keith rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “It takes a lot of time to help the planets recover. We’re spread kinda thin.”

“I can imagine.” While she did not go on diplomatic missions anymore, she’d seen enough during her time as a paladin to know just what shape the universe was left in. “It’ll take some time to repair the damage and mend bonds.”

“Yeah.” Keith gestured at the field in front of him and Allura followed his hand. While she’d been distracted, several Galra children had started playing as well, a new game where the kids all tried to keep a ball away from Wolfy. “But we’re making progress.”

“Progress,” she echoed, eyes wide. Galra and Altean kids, playing together like they had centuries ago when her father and Lotor’s had been friends. Just a few years ago, they had been attacking on another. Hell, just a few years ago, she had attacked Keith for that very same reason. Yet here they were, enjoying a pleasant afternoon. “We’re really doing it.”

“I know.” Keith reached out and squeezed her hand, a warm smile on his lips. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Touched, she turned her hand and squeezed back. “Thanks. I didn’t think everyone could make it.”

“With Coran reminding us every five minutes, it’d be impossible for us to forget,” he commented dryly. “But I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

-x-

A woman stood in the middle of a field of flowers. Slowly, she walked forward, gathering the brightest blooms she could find. Allura watched as Haggar’s robes shimmered on and off her. For the most part, this was Honerva.

For the most part, there was no difference between the two, just stops on the road.

“He proposed to me here,” Honerva said, breaking the silence. She didn’t look back at Allura, still walking through the flowers. “I had always wanted to bring Lotor here, but…well, I guess that’ll never happen now.”

“He visited me,” Allura blurted before she could stop herself. “He saw the flowers.”

This brought her to a stop. Turning around, she raised a brow questioningly at Allura. “Really?”

“Really.” Allura took in the profile of the woman before her. This looked more like the scientist her father had described, with her hair neatly done up in a bun and her glasses. The flowers nestled in her left arm looked like a bouquet.

Honerva’s expression relaxed. “That’s good.” She looked up at the moon. “I wish I could have raised him here.”

“You could have.” Allura fisted her hand. A familiar anger rose up in her, an anger she would always feel when she thought of Haggar and Lotor, when she thought of the Galra and what they’d done. “If you hadn’t—”

“That was the start of it all,” Honerva agreed, walking toward Allura now. “The domino that knocked everything down.”

And with that rage came a new yet familiar feeling—sorrow. For what could have been. For what was lost. Allura bit her lip and looked away. It was a feeling she never wanted to associate with her enemy. “I saw it all.”

“Did you?” Honerva came to a stop in front of her. There was no cape anymore, no sign of the witch. Just an Altean scientist, ready for her next discovery.

“Your past. Your son’s past. All of it.” It was impossible not to, travelling through the universes as they had. Rage broke into sorrow broke into a quiet despair. “I can’t understand it.”

“Neither can I.” Honerva brushed the petals of a flower. “It made sense at the time. A strange sense. The worst ideas do. It’s never a sudden thing—you just start to go a little off path and all of a sudden you’re in a wasteland.”

It wasn’t the answer she was looking for. It wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. Then again, there would never be an answer that could make it all better. Too much was lost for that to ever happen. “It wasn’t right.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Honerva smiled weakly. Cradling the flowers in her arms, she took a last sniff before pushing them into Allura’s hands. “But you know what to avoid now, right?”

Allura stared at the flowers in her arms, at the sight she had once thought gone forever. Burying her face in the petals, she mumbled. “I didn’t need your help to know that.”

“No, you didn’t.” Honerva raised a hand, black lightning escaping her fingertips. “Are you ready to let it go now?”

“No.” Allura sighed, raising her hand anyways. “But I don’t need this. I never did. I’m not you.”

“You never were.”

-x-

“Allura!” Coran jogged up to her. Dressed in a purple tuxedo, he smoothened out the wrinkles as he slowed his pace. “Can’t get any wrinkles—it’s just a rental.”

“Ah, I thought it looked a little conservative for you,” Allura teased, chuckling as he adjusted his dark blue bowtie.

“I know, I know, not as dazzling as my usual attire,” Coran admitted, adjusting his jacket. “But today’s not about me.”

“That’s true.” Walking down the paved pathway through the garden, the pair headed toward the far end. A statue of her father and his paladins stood there, a marker to those who had lost their lives fighting tyranny. “What was it Lance called it? Remembrance day?”

“Yes. A day to remember those who had fallen.” Coran glanced at the statue, then at her. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he murmured, “You father would be very proud of what you’ve done here.”

“I hope so.” Overcome, she leaned on him.

“I know he is.” Coran stopped when they reached the foot of the statue. On the other side, Alteans sat on blankets and chairs, waiting for her speech. “I am too.”

She blinked furiously, trying not to cry. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Unlike her, he had no reservations about bawling, and tears flowed down his cheeks like a dam bursting open. His arms opened, ready for a hug. “Allura!”

Quickly, she dodged his embraced and gave him a quick peck on the cheeks. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she headed to the makeshift podium. Rows upon rows of Alteans were seated in front of it and in the distance, she could spot Shiro, Keith and the other paladins. Everyone was here. Allura glanced up at the statue, at her father’s face, and took a deep breath.

She could do this.

“Today marks the anniversary of Altea’s destruction and our first Remembrance day. A day in which we honour our lost Alteans. While most of you will not know of them, Coran and I can share their memory with you and with that, we can all remember them. The stories of my wise father, who sacrificed much to protect Altea and the universe. Of my brave mother, who helped gather our forces and ensure we were prepared for what may come. Of hundreds of like-minded Alteans, who all died without cause or reason.” Allura took a deep breath, her hands curling into the podium. “But we do not only remember the best of us, but also the worst. Honerva’s drive for knowledge, which destroyed our home. Lotor, who forgot just what he was fighting for. Through them we are reminded that people don’t always start out as villains, that sometimes we end up like that. That we should sometimes take stock of our actions and remember just what our purpose is.”

Black energy still crackled under her veins, a power she wasn’t sure was real or not. For once, though, it didn’t scare her.

She had her friends. She had her family. She had herself. Unlike Honerva or Lotor, Allura wouldn’t lose herself.

“So join me in remembering Altea for what was and in celebrating what it will be.”


End file.
